


Christmas in July

by FuturePSotUS



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 08:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuturePSotUS/pseuds/FuturePSotUS
Summary: Jack has always loved the idea of wasting an entire winter’s day wrapped up in blankets, drinking cocoa, and sitting in front of the fire with his boyfriend. Too bad he plays 82 games of hockey a year.





	Christmas in July

**Author's Note:**

> To my darling Meg, thanks for the prompt and for understanding that I am le worst at deadlines. 
> 
> Also, thanks in advance to both Meg and everyone else for reading and for ignoring the fact that Jack Laurent Zimmermann apparently bakes Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls for more than an hour and they come out great. I didn't realized I'd written it that way until I was editing and by then I was just sort of like, "Artistic license covers all sins!"

With a practice borne of numerous early mornings and late nights Jack slipped from bed without waking Bitty. Softly, he crept first to the bathroom and then out into the hall where he cranked the AC to an unbelievable 55. He figured he about about forty five minutes, maybe an hour, before the cold penetrated Bitty’s burrito. Quickly, he set to work with the rest of his preparations, following an neatly outlined to do list he’d spent the week writing up to make sure he didn’t forget anything. 

He popped a tray of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls into the oven and assumed Bitty would forgive him for not attempting to make his own dough; poured wine, sugar, orange slices, and spices into the crockpot; and built a nest on the living room floor after pulling all of their thick fleece and flannel blankets down from the top shelf of the linen closet. From behind a pile of history books on the bookshelf he pulled out a manila folder filled with hand cut paper snowflakes and artfully taped them to the windows. 

Briefly, Jack had considered playing one of those 10 hour videos of a fireplace on the TV for the illusion but in his test run yesterday he’d decided against it. Until they owned a home with a fireplace (and if Jack had his way their future home would have a fireplace in nearly every room) they’d just have to forego the treat. Instead he settled for three strategically placed pine scented candles and a number of smaller, scentless tea lights in pretty glass bulbs scattered about. 

Jack stopping fussing with the tea lights when he heard movement from the bedroom; Bitty was starting to stir. He turned Spotify on and hummed along to Bing and Nat while he made hot cocoa. 

“...What on god’s green earth?! Jack! You bumped the thermostat! It’s all the way down at… Are you listening to Christmas music?”

“Merry Christmas, Saint Nick!” Jack sing-songed at Bitty as he handed him a mug. “Go get comfy and warm in the living room, I heard we might get a blizzard today!”

“A blizzard? Honey, it’s July?”

But when Jack only responded with a shooing motion, Bitty obeyed. He curled up in several blankets, holding his cocoa in both hands as he blinked confusedly around at his surroundings. 

“Is it Christmas?”

“It is.”

“For any reason in particular, darlin’?”

Jack snuggled down next to his boyfriend with his own cocoa and gave a one-shouldered shrug, “Not really. I just wanted to spend a lazy winter’s day with you and since that’s not really feasible right now I figured this might be a fun way to make believe.”

Bitty took a tentative sip and sighed happily, “You made it with milk.”

“And proper cocoa powder too. Snowy gave me this nice, organic tin of it.”

Bitty hummed. 

“The AC bill is going to be outrageous, you know,” he said even as he leaned into his boyfriend’s side and kicked at his blanket so it fell over his toes. 

“I think I can cover it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They drifted into silence, Jack’s humming fading out as the music changed to a lazy acoustic cover of The First Noel. His eyes drifted shut and except to occasionally take a sip of the rich and frothy hot chocolate neither he nor Bitty moved. 

He loved this. He loved being close to Eric and letting Eric be close to him. And though he also loved Bitty’s extroversion, the discovery that they could sit together in a comfortable, still silence had reaffirmed what Jack already knew; Eric was it for him. He didn’t wonder, didn’t worry, didn’t fret that Bitty wanted him to change. He might wish Jack owned something between game day suits and Falcs athletic gear and he might chirp Jack endlessly about his running shoes but, they were gentle and lighthearted finger-wags. They came from a place of love. 

“Oh,” exclaimed Bitty in wonder after a while, “You cut out snowflakes! They’re gorgeous, sweetie.”

“Thanks,” Jack puffed up in pride. “I found one of those YouTube videos that shows you how.”

“They’re lovely. This is all lovely.”

“I thought about putting a fire on the TV… it seemed cheesy in a sad kind of way though.”

Bitty nodded sagely, “Good call. Save the fire for when we have a fireplace.”

“Exactly!” Jack kissed Eric’s temple. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“You didn’t get me a gift, right? This is just a pretend cozy Christmas Day?”

Bitty drew a big breath when Jack paused and bit his lip. It made Jack laugh and kiss him again. 

“No gifts except for the always present gift of my presence. Which really, Bittle, should be gift enough.”

Bitty giggled, delighted. 

“Of course! Of course! Remind me to write you a thank you note for that next time you leave a pan with dried out scrambled egg on the bottom in the sink.”

Jack pouted and Bitty laughed harder. 

Mindful of their drinks, the couple didn’t outright tussle on the floor, though it was a close call. Only the incessant beeping of the oven timer pulled them apart. For the first time since he’d woken up Bitty sniffed the air. 

“Cinnamon rolls?” he asked hopefully. 

“Yep. And I’ll make some coffee too.”

“Someone should invent hot cocoa with caffeine,” said Eric. He held his cup out with a angelic grin.

“And more cocoa.” 

Jack pressed several kisses onto Bits’s forehead and cheeks before disentangling from his fleecy cocoon and making his way into the kitchen. He efficiently brewed a pot of coffee and another pan of hot chocolate while the rolls cooled enough for him to ice them with his best Jackson Pollock imitation. He proudly carried it all into the living room on a bamboo tea tray. 

“It looks delicious!” praised Bitty. “Thank you!”

He waited for Jack to wriggle back into his half of their nest before leaning over for a soft kiss. 

“Thank you for all of this.”

They took their time eating, feeding each other the occasional bite as often as they paused to exchange sticky-sweet kisses. Rather than clean up they pushed their dishes as far off to one side as their legs could reach. Bitty ducked his head under the covers and pushed his cold nose into Jack’s torso. He sighed, contentedly full, and wrapped an arm around Jack’s waist, tucking his fingers under the elastic waistband of Jack’s basketball shorts. 

Peering into Bitty’s cave Jack scooted down to join him. Eric shifted to accommodate him and happily settled for instead pressing his entire face against Jack’s neck. 

“Nap and then a movie?”

“Love Actually?” 

“Sounds perfect.”

They dozed.

Pressed tightly against Bitty, Jack woke up with a thin layer of sweat under his arms and on his lower back. He scratched at it and yawned. His movements woke Eric who bent his head left and then right, cracking his neck loudly enough that Jack winced. Bitty sniffed the air lazily. 

“Still smells nice in here. Did you make something?”

Jack perked up, “Oh! I mulled wine! Why don’t I get some and make a frozen pizza?”

“I literally love you so much.”

Their afternoon passed in a haze of pepperoni pizza and warmly spiced wine. They moved from movie to movie, alternating between each other’s favorites. Horrified Jack had never seen Elf, Bitty educated him and even managed not to quote along to his favorite scenes. Between films they kissed and laughed and kissed some more. 

As the afternoon ended Jack hunkered down to snuggle into Bitty’s chest. 

“Thanks for today,” he said quietly.

Bitty pressed a kiss to the top of his head and smiled. He looked around the room; their dishes had piled up and they’d kicked off some of their blankets. The tea lights had burned out hours ago and they’d blown the pine candles out not too much later, overwhelmed by the strength of their smell. But the setting sun shone through the hand cut snowflakes Jack had put up. Beautiful patterns played out over the floor of the apartment, dancing across the boards as the light moved down to the horizon. They should save the snowflakes, Bitty thought, so that when it was actually winter Jack could photograph the scene. 

“Thank you for today,” he returned. “It was really special.”

“In a few years we’ll be able to do it when it’s actually cold.”

“Meh,” Eric shrugged, “I’m happy to wait.”

He felt Jack smile, and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. 

“I love you, sweetpea.”

Jack’s smile grew. 

“I love you too.”


End file.
